


Just Go

by aislingyngaio



Category: Warcraft III
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingyngaio/pseuds/aislingyngaio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Arthas walks up the Frozen Throne, the voices of his past miraculously interrupted him from going any further. Or one voice, to be accurate. That of his heart that existed, Jaina. What does he do now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Go

Arthas Menethil smiled wickedly down at his enemy, Illidan Stormrage. "Know now, in your hour of doom, that no one can defeat the might of Frostmourne, demon hunter. Now, out of my way. I have business to do." And, turning from the dying figure, he walked towards the gate leading towards the Frozen Throne, which had been opened by the activation of the four enchanted obelisks.

Step by step he walked up towards the Throne Chamber. The cold wind howled around him, but he did not feel the chill. The only thing on his mind now was to get to his master, the Lich King, immediately. And from faraway, as if from a dream, memories of the past came floating back to him. That long ago past, when he was but a prince, and a paladin of the Silver Hand, fighting for his father and the Light. _The Light_. He scoffed. Honestly.

 _Vengeance cannot be a part of what we must do. If we allow our passions to turn to bloodlust, then we will become as vile as the orcs._ That damned Uther and his ideals. He had shown the world that he, Arthas, was the one who finally carried the day, not Uther the Lightbringer… Besides, Uther didn't know how bloodlust could turn one such as himself into an incredible warrior. Sadly, the _Lightbringer_ won't even hear of it. Naïve fool.

 _You are NOT my king yet, boy, nor would I obey that command even if you were._ And he remembered what he had replied. _Then I must consider this an act of treason._

 _Forget this business and lead your men home!_ That was Muradin. Arthas only thought that Muradin Bronzebeard, his long time friend, never did understand him completely, but he did help him claim Frostmourne, the source of his power, and of what he had to that day. But Arthas was still bitter towards him for trying to turn him away from the blade…

 _Treason? Have you lost your mind, Arthas?_ Of all the dramatic acts in the world. Judging really didn't suit Uther well at all.

_You lied to your men, and betrayed the mercenaries that fought for you. What's happened to you, Arthas? Is vengeance all that's important to you, Arthas?_

Yes. Vengeance. Arthas's lip curl as he thought of the irony of the situation. That's all that's important to him now… That, and serving Ner'zhul as his humble servant, his champion, his death knight. Why shouldn't he? After all, his master could even see the future and stop himself from dying. Why shouldn't he…

_I'm sorry, Arthas. I can't watch you do this._

He stopped dead in his tracks. _Jaina_.

How could he have forgotten her? His… his… What was she to him? In that long ago past, he would have called her his most beloved friend, the only one for whom he would have considered turning back on anything. That day at Stratholme, when he saw her running away with Uther, he was almost heartbroken that she would turn her back on him at his most crucial moment. She was clearly in pain, for she refused to look at him, and she ran. And that look on her beautiful face when he told her that he was going to Northrend to hunt Mal'Ganis down. It was as if she saw death in his features already.

Without thinking, he turned his back on the Frozen Throne and started descending Ice Crown glacier. He needed to see her once again, before he did anything else. Even before rescuing his master. No matter the cost.

* * *

_How long ago did peace exist?_ Jaina Proudmoore sighed sadly as she tried but failed to concentrate on her administrative duties. Before all the complications of the undead came, she lived a happy life, studying to be an Archmage, practising her invisibility spells, which came in handy for eavesdropping, when she had nothing else to do, and basically had no real worries except for the occasional mission her master, Antonidas, sent her to deal with. Now Antonidas was dead, along with the whole of Lordaeron and Dalaran, and the only home she knew was completely gone. And her father, Admiral Daelin Proudmoore, was slaughtered recently too, because he wouldn't listen to her, but drew sword against Thrall and the new Alliance they both created. She had no choice, and she knew Thrall was right, so she allowed her father to be killed in the name of peace both she and Thrall fought to maintain. Everyone she knew and loved was gone. Even Arthas…

Swallowing hard, she choked back a sob, as she often did when she thought of him, and the times they used to have. They were once a couple, and very much in love, but the publicity it brought was a price Jaina couldn't afford to pay, especially when Dalaran was besieged by the media. Regardless of the fact, they had remained close throughout the years, but…

 _He has betrayed us_ , she told herself firmly. _He betrayed us and is no longer the Arthas I know… and loved_. Immersed in her thoughts, she barely registered the frantic voice of one of her patrol leaders.

"Mistress Jaina, you must come to the harbour at once! It's… Mistress? Are you all right?"

Looking up, she assured the harassed-looking man that she was quite all right, although her weak smile said otherwise. Having caught her attention, the man repeated his request hurriedly. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "Is there something the matter, Boris? You seldom look this… urgent."

"It is the Prince, milady! Prince Arthas! He has come!"

The world came crashing down around her as Jaina fought hard not to pass out at that moment. She thought Arthas was gone from her life forever the instant he set sail for Northrend and she for Kalimdor. Now… now he was here! But why?

"Are you sure, Boris?" she demanded weakly. "How could he possibly…"

"I'm sure I don't know. He kept insisting that he wants an audience with you, but he won't say why," Boris the patrol leader told her. "And, if you'll excuse me, mistress, he doesn't quite look like the handsome prince he once was, but he looks… almost like a decaying corpse! And the very ground he walks on wilts and dies. So much about him speaks of his allegiance to the undead. Will you go to him, miss?"

"I… I would much rather not, actually…" Jaina stammered as she sought to take control of her feelings.

"Oh, but mistress, he vowed that he would not leave until he saw you for the last time, and to be sure, his presence bodes ill for us all. Will you not persuade him, milady?"

"I… oh, very well Boris. I'll go." Jaina wasn't even sure why she'd agreed, because she wanted him gone, or she wanted to see him again, if only for the last time. Grabbing her cloak, she walked slowly through her citadel to the harbour gates instead of teleporting, taking care to delay her journey as long as possible. She didn't know what this would achieve, but…

As she neared, she noticed that many doors were shut and there were no one on the streets. The people were obviously still frightened of the undead, especially of their fallen prince. Luckily, Boris and his patrol team were there to escort her, so she didn't feel as lonely as she was inside. And then, she saw him. Boris was right. He looked like the living dead. At first sight, she couldn't recognise him, but he still retained some of his past features, the shadow, the ghost of a once handsome face. Just seeing him again broke her heart all over. She didn't want to believe that the man she once loved was now gone forever, to be replaced by this Dark creature who served the undead lord, their enemy. Yet, he looked… weak, as if his powers were somehow diminished.

She could hear the patrol's breaths getting sharper and knew why. The very air around Arthas was all death and decay. So she ventured to stop before the air becomes unbearable.

Arthas observed her with his dead eyes, and spoke, "Jaina."

"Arthas?" Jaina whispered back, still not wanting to believe it. His nod confirmed the worst. He then told her, "I desire a _private_ audience with you, Jaina."

Boris interrupted, his eyes wide, "Milady, I don't think…" but he fell silent at Arthas's piercing gaze, and instead looked at Jaina for her instructions.

For a long time, Jaina contemplated, then finally told Boris, "It's all right, Boris. Five minutes." Boris nodded uncertainly and led his men back into the citadel, leaving his mistress and his former prince together.

As soon as she saw them out of sight, Jaina burst out passionately, "My God, Arthas. How could you? I told you it sounded like a trap, but you went anyway, and look what you've become! I don't even know you anymore!"

He didn't even flinch. "Jaina… It's too late. The 'I-told-you-so' speech is now of no more use. My master has, in fact, shown me a greater power and I am now more powerful than I ever was…"

"At the cost of your soul?" she returned disbelievingly. How could he be so cool about it? But his response was by far the most shocking one…

"Why not?"

They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. Jaina broke it.

"Why did you come? You know very well that you're lucky my men did not raise their swords against you when they should."

More silence.

"I had to see you again. One last time. Before I…"

"I don't want to know, Arthas. Please leave. I will spare you this time only because of what you once were. Those happy days when you would come and light up my day… I doubt you even remember now in your… current state. You are no longer the person you once were, Arthas, the one I loved and cherished. I thought you could be saved, but your answer clearly says that you feel no remorse for what you have done…"

Arthas interjected, a little impatiently, "I did what I had to, Jaina. What would you have done if you saw your countrymen being slaughtered?"

"Don't ask me, Arthas!" Jaina all but screamed disappointedly. "I was there with you all along. I saw what happened! And I heeded Medivh and left, so saving the people you see on this isle! But how about you? You turned into the undead, and are now doing the very deed you swore to hunt Mal'Ganis down for doing, becoming the very evil you sought to purge!"

Somewhere in the deep abyss of his stolen soul, Arthas knew that Jaina was right, but what did it matter anymore? Jaina echoed his next thoughts.

"You have chosen your path and I have chosen mine. You and I are no longer on the same side. This is the last time either of us will be alive when we meet. Goodbye Arthas." Turning back, she made to return to the citadel, but was stopped by Arthas's voice.

"Jaina…"

"Please, Arthas. Just go," she pleaded, betraying the desperation inside her for the first time. "I've already had to bury my own father. Please don't make me do the same to you. I can't bear it another time." And with that, she returned to the last human citadel left in Azeroth.

She still loved him. That is, the him that was. And he knew it.

Arthas watched as she went, and when she was finally disappeared from his sight, he said quietly, "Goodbye, Jaina."

– _Finis –_


End file.
